—on the occasion of an unexpected email from an old
friend who'd abruptly withdrawn from conversation
some years earlier without explanation
Rapprochement
Just wondering if worlds seen from a distance
really are smaller than they are
.
Could it be that when we sleep
the world we leave goes on without us
.
Maybe you remember the old days
when greenhorns multiplied their joys
and were thoughtless as a new moon
.
Is it possible that, from upstairs,
everything is seen through a rose window
crisp as Venus or is nothing to be seen between us
.
Perhaps, in your wintering,
you needed to spend some years
on an island being tuned
when suddenly you cleared your gears
and thought I might be snow shoveling
this morning on the cusp of spring
.
I wanted to ask if maybes still exist
or if tomorrow is so sure a thing
.
So, are you still counting coup
on the enemies of the morning dew
.
I hadn’t heard, so thought I’d start a new tale
of thoughts that may never have been played,
thoughts naked as the first babe born today
.
Have you noticed something odd
—that nothing ever changes but the color
of the feather in the hat band of god
.
Could I
ask
.
Would you
answer
.
What the
fuck
.
And why the unworn soles of the shoes
on the tongue of the dancer —bad luck?
.
When did you say you last caught
glimpses of the ghosts you fought
.
I never asked, but I suspect
you’re still stuffed with words,
a cornucopia of clever corkscrews
in our alphabet
.
Possibly it’s a mistake,
but even god's not perfectly awake
.
For what it’s worth breakfast’s the best meal of the day
The sun’s a fresh egg, the clouds white albumin
—ahead? a day with plenty of time and space to stew in
.
Guess I could just jot something down
recalling our bridges of contention
with their steel beams and tenuous
cables of suspension
.
If it’s not too much to ask (you asked
—the paper being so unreliable these days
and TV a joke)
how’s the weather?
Fine , and yours?
as fine, I hope
by Jim Culleny
4/1/13